I’m even ashamed to post these now, but I found them like 6 lost souls on my laptop (who desperately needs a file cleanup – anyone..? I’ll pay you in muffins?) They were taken on New Years a few months back when I was still at home in the South of France… My friend Lola, who you might remember from this post, luckily dates a handsome farmer who owns a cabin (I KNOW). It’s hidden at the edge of the forest, all the way up the long winding road.
We met early in the morning, with a warming cup of tea in hand, spoke food logistics for a little while, before heading out in the cold to go shopping. A truck load of food later, we grabbed some extra blankets, enough choux a la creme to feed an army, enough champagne to drown ourselves in and up the mountain we went.
It was the best New Years I had in a long time. I find that New Year’s eve always has so much pressure, the biggest party, the best costume, the prettiest dress, the best location to watch the fireworks, the best crowd of people… you inevitably end up disappointed. I know I do. Whereas when there is no pressure at all, you’re wearing your cosiest jumper, watching the boys run around like headless chickens popping fireworks out in the snow, while sitting by the fire eating delicious food, sipping on champagne & peppermint tea, with the best people you know – that’s the real deal.
I’ll stop going on about winter celebrations now, but I’ve had a deep craving for the mountains recently. I miss getting lost deep in the forest, I miss the earthy smell & the pure crisp air. You all know I’m a real country girl at heart, I don’t function properly if I’ve been away from nature for too long. I think a trip to the Blue Mountains is needed asap.